This isn't going to work
by Stephensmat
Summary: It's the little things that make all the difference. Dale discovers as much now that he's living with Skylar. A DaleSkylar drabble.


The day goes on like the last five have. We collect the rainwater, plus the tank water, heat one bucket of it and split it into the kitchen sink and the master bathroom sink. It was my day to scrub, and hers to wash up. Tomorrow we switch. I made a note to make sure I reuse the dinner plates for my breakfast tomorrow so that she'd have extra water to use. Skylar hadn't quite learned the need to rinse dishes after washing them.

Anyone else would have been concerned by the litany of complaints and snarls coming from the bathroom, but after living with her as she went about her day for almost a week, it was rapidly becoming white noise for me.

"Nope. This isn't going to work." That phrase stood out loud enough and I hear the bathroom door open.

Skylar came marching into the kitchen, savage and angry, with bright red-rimmed eyes.

Wearing a towel.

I suddenly find myself fascinated by the dirty pot in front of me. If Skylar is aware of how awkward this is for me, she's far too ticked to care.

"Y'know something?!" She yells. "I've made changes. Big ones. I can deal with the end of the world, and the end of credit cards, and my family on the other side of the freaking radioactive country, and... well... YOU! And I don't mind, because that's the world now, but you know what I can't stand?!"

"The little things?" I ask, knowing the answer, she's done this three times already.

"The little things!" She hollers. "I mean, I can deal with no power, and having to boil water on the balcony, and having to wash in a sink, and you don't have any junk to make a mess with; but THIS is the last bottle of shampoo in town, I had to beat Gail out of your store with a stick for it-"

"And thank you so much for that." I put in, still facing the dishes, I dare a glance out the corner of my eye. Man she looks good with her hair wet.

She's almost throttling that bottle. "But it's no good to me because I cant use it, without going blind. You know how much this stuff stings? Every time I try to wash my hair in a sink, I end up getting it in my eyes, and it burns. Beat Gail half to death, and I'm gonna go blind!" She steps forward and knuckles my shoulder. I fix my gaze very carefully on the dishes in front of me the closer she gets. "I got this evil thing in your store! Why didn't you warn me?! And what am I supposed to do when this is gone anyway?"

"Long time ago they mixed ashes with goat fat to make soap." I put in.

Wow. The temperature in the room just dropped twenty degrees with that look.

Finally she puts the shampoo on the counter next to me. "I need help with this. Come on. Water's getting cold."

She turns and marches back into the bathroom, leaving me to wonder if I imagined that last part. The Shampoo bottle says no. I pick it up and freeze. "You need help with... what exactly?"

* * *

I peek around the bathroom door. She's wearing a robe now, thank you kind and merciful god.

She hands me the jug and kneels down on the tiles over the sink, with that towel folded up covering her eyes and brushes her long hair forward.

Wow she looks good. For a microsecond I'm struck by just how surreal my life became since the attack. "Ready?" My voice holds, thank you kind and merciful...

"Ready."

I pour the water over her hair and start working the shampoo in.

Her hands come up and cover mine without lifting her face. "This isn't going to work."

I jump back like her hair was on fire suddenly. Did I go too far? Who invited who in here?

But she's not talking about me, she's scrubbing her hair. "I cant keep doing this. For one thing, I've still got another two weeks worth of shampoo here. I'm not going to keep dragging you in here every time I need to wash my hair."

'I wouldn't mind.' I don't dare say that thought out loud.

"I need to cut it. Rinse."

I pour the jug over her hair again, rinsing out the shampoo.

"Short hair's easier to manage without it getting in my eyes." She stood up, started wringing out her hair while she thought it over. "Anybody giving haircuts? Think I should do it myself?"

She was getting into the habit of talking to me without waiting for me to answer. Mostly because I rarely answered.

She was staring at me. My face is going red. Why is she staring at me? "What?"

She made a face. "Can a girl get dressed?"

I turn for the door so fast that I walk into it.

She giggles as I leave, but her laugh isn't mean any more.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" I tell myself as I start scrubbing pans again.

* * *

She comes out a minute or two later, dressed again. "Where are the scissors?"

"Skylar." I say. "Don't. You... you look good with long hair."

"Yeah?" Oh hell she's blushing too.

"Yeah." I haven't felt this stupid in a very long time.

"Thanks." She says finally, backing for the door. "Well, I'm gonna...um...go upstairs."

She hurries out, and I briefly consider drowning myself in the sink water. "Stupid, stupid, stupid!"

* * *

#Authors note#  
What struck me about Jericho wasn't the gunfights or the conspiracies, what struck me was the much smaller changes, like making Ice without power, or bartering instead of cash. So when I picture life in that world, I try to see the day to day life and how different it is. 


End file.
